


Irish Coffee

by asphaltcowgrrl



Series: White Pine [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Christmas, M/M, Original Character(s), Original Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2014-08-19
Packaged: 2018-02-13 20:58:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2164935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asphaltcowgrrl/pseuds/asphaltcowgrrl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Detective Ethan McDowell is working on starting his life over. When a little bit of car trouble lands him back on the doorstep of Travis Murphy, all bets are off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> How did I not know I could post original works here? HOW?
> 
> Eh, I hope you enjoy. Oh, and for those of you who read my CL fanfic, I know, I should have changed Travis' name, but it felt too right that I couldn't. Besides, there's a little Travis Marks in this boy (and more of me than any of you will ever know!).

Travis pushed a lock of obstinate hair off his forehead and glared at the monitor before him.  Moments like these, when the words just wouldn’t come and a deadline was staring him in the face, his stereotypical Irish side flared and flared big.  “Stupid ass computer,” he growled, knowing it had nothing to do with the computer and everything to do with himself. 

Christmas was approaching rapidly – three days and counting until The Big Day – along with his deadline just two days after.  And he was stuck.  He rarely dealt with writer’s block, but for some reason, this novel had him stymied.  It had been plotted, fleshed out, just not fully written, and he figured it’d be cake, no more difficult to finish than any other had been.  But, like usual, he was wrong.  Something was missing.  Whatever it was, it sure was keeping him from making any real progress.    

To make matters worse, he was expected at his parents’ house for the holiday.  He loved his folks dearly, their odd combination of heritages always made the holidays fun and exotic, compared to what his friends had had growing up, but his lack of suitable company always plagued them.  Travis had promised to try better, to get out more and to _find someone_ this year, but his good intentions had fallen by the wayside.  Sometimes his muse could be a demanding bitch.

And then there were times when the whore left him in the lurch, like right about now.

He was fortunate in that his parents accepted his lifestyle wholeheartedly.  Both the solitary writer’s life he’d chosen as well as his preference for men.  Travis remembered how surprised he’d been when his father had admonished his reservations in telling them about his sexuality that night when he was eighteen. 

“Travis, my son,” he’d said, thick Irish brogue filling the room, “why would you ever think we wouldn’t love you the way you are?”

His father had a point.  They’d never held his delinquent teenage years against him, including a brief stint in the pokey, so why would they have started with that?  Aracely Murphy, on the other hand, hadn’t been such a slam dunk.  Having been raised a devout Catholic in Mexico, she’d had some concerns at first.  However, in true Murphy fashion, she’d come around and embraced his news.  As long as he was happy, she’d be happy for him.  Truly, he had wonderful parents.    

Frustrated, he pushed back his rolling chair and ambled into the kitchen.  He dug around his mostly empty fridge, contemplated buying groceries, and immediately dismissed the idea in favor of the last beer on the shelf.  He’d just popped the top when a knock alerted him to a visitor at the front door. 

Travis lived off the beaten path, thirty or so miles outside of the nearest town.  Close enough to run and get things when needed, but far enough away from the rest of the world to placate his reclusive writer’s soul.  His location also meant that he didn’t often get unannounced visitors either.  When he did get a surprise guest, it was either a lost individual or a missionary of some sort.  He peeked through the blinds before opening the door, making a mental bet on which it’d be this time.

_Or sometimes the police,_ he corrected himself, doing a quick double take.  _Interesting._   

Travis unbolted the locks, opening the door with a smile for the nice officer.  Facing a cop always made him uneasy, even though he hadn’t been in any kind of trouble for over fifteen years now.  During high school, he’d spent too much time in their company to ever be quite at ease.  Old habits die hard, he supposed.    It did help soothe his nerves when the cop in question was as attractive as the one currently standing on his stoop.  “Good morning, what can I do for you?” 

The handsome brunette on the other side of the screen door gave a halfhearted smile.  “Good morning,” he recited blandly, obviously tired of having to repeat – yet again – whatever message he’d come to deliver.  “The City of White Pine wants all residents to understand the severity of the storm headed our way.  We’re going door-to-door making sure everyone is comfortable, not in need of medical attention, and ready to possibly be snowed in for a few days.”

The entire situation amused him.  Only in a town like White Pine would they send the police department out knocking on doors, checking on the residents.  “Are we low on uniforms because if I’m not mistaken, you’re dressed like a detective.  Isn’t this above your pay grade?”

The officer smiled fully this time, his bright green eyes glistening with mirth.  “Yes, well, I’ve taken a break of sorts from my duties as a detective in the big city.  Because of that, the good sheriff agreed to allow me to work plainclothes during my tenure here in White Pine.  This is a bit of a… change, to say the least.”  He shifted uneasily, looking at his feet for a moment before returning his gaze upward. 

“I bet,” Travis agreed.  “So, that makes you our weather patrol out here in the boonies then?”  He couldn’t help but tease the poor guy.  There was something about him that brought out the mischievous in Travis.  He thought about it for approximately four seconds before blaming it on the dimple.  It had to be the dimple.    

“Something like that, yes.  You good Mr.?”  Two reddish brown eyebrows lifted in question.  

“Murphy.  Travis Murphy and yes, I’m good.  Need some food, but that’s it.”  His stomach growled in agreement. 

“You’d better get a move on and get some groceries, storm’s coming faster than we think.  Have a good day.”  He nodded his farewell before moving towards the street. 

“Thanks, and you as well, Detective.”  Travis stayed in the doorway, watching. 

The brunette stopped a few paces from Travis’ front door, compelled to add to the conversation.  “McDowell.  Ethan, if you like.”

He liked.  From his burnished cowlick to his shiny dress shoes, there wasn’t a damn thing he could find fault with.  “Stay safe, Ethan.”

Detective McDowell nodded and continued along the path towards Travis’ nearest neighbor, several hundred yards down the road.  Two curious blue eyes following him until he disappeared from view.    

 

For the first time since he’d been banished to this nowhere, backwater town, Ethan McDowell had reason to smile.  He’d spent the last six months filing reports, taking calls, and sweeping floors in penance for something he’d done out of impulse.  And he’d be damned if he wouldn’t do it again, given the chance.  It had been the right choice, even if his superiors thought differently.  As a cop, you had to run with your gut.  Sometimes it saved lives and sometimes… well, sometimes you were wrong. 

White Pine was so small, so quiet, and honestly so boring that he thought he’d never find anything to pique his interest during his tenure of penance, but he’d been wrong.  So very, very wrong.  Interest in the form of Travis Murphy had sprung out of nowhere.    

A sound caught his attention halfway between the Murphy property and the nearest neighbor, a good quarter mile due west.  He directed his attention over his shoulder in time to see an aging blue pickup carrying the home’s odd yet adorable resident out of his drive and into town.  Ethan’s mouth quirked up at the corner.  “I’ll be damned, someone actually took my advice for a change.”

Ethan shook his head, amused, and continued on his way to the street’s next inhabitant.  He was getting his exercise here in White Pine that much was for certain.  He’d discovered early on that, if you were crass enough to actually use your vehicle for any short, walkable trips, you were verbally abused by the kindly, yet eco-friendly citizens.  After the third haranguing, he came to two conclusions: one, it was much simpler to just walk and two, the citizens weren’t nearly as eco-friendly as they were just plain anti-lazy. 

He figured he’d deal with it as it came.  In the meantime, he walked. 

 

Travis took the detective’s advice to heart and headed out to the local grocery to stock up while he had the chance.  He’d put it off one too many times before and spent more than one snowstorm cold and hungry.  His mother would have been appalled, had she known, but he’d learned his lesson.  Eventually. 

Getting out of the house and away from his disaster in progress had done him some good in the end.  As he was restocking his shelves with all his favorites, he’d had an idea.  It started small and began to grow, the words filing his mind’s eye while he shopped.  Travis couldn’t wait to return home and throw all those new friends onto a document. 

Inspiration fueled by a pair of fiery green eyes and a dimple that wouldn’t quit. 

As much as he hated to admit it, even to himself in the quiet of his little office, he was crushing on the sweet detective – hard.  Ethan McDowell had been in the forefront of Travis’ mind since the moment he’d walked off his porch this morning.  He hated it when he obsessed, but on the bright side, the unexpected visit had given new life to his flat, boring new detective he’d been working with.  Maybe he’d make his deadline after all? 

He’d always prided himself in being cautious, taking his time, getting to know a guy first.  Regrettably, not this time.  He was ready and willing to dive right into the depths of this detective and find out how badly it was going to hurt when he landed on his ass.  Travis Murphy was a lot of things – eccentric, arrogant, mouthy – but one thing he couldn’t ever be accused of being was timid.  Least of all when it came to getting what he wanted. 

But for now, he settled for delving back into the dredge he was calling his current work in progress.  Hoping that maybe, possibly, some of the hijinks his new fictional detective was about to get himself into could play themselves out in real life. 

Travis smiled at the thought. 


	2. Chapter 2

He wasn’t sure how long he’d sat at his laptop, pounding away at the story that wouldn’t die.  The fact that his stomach was rumbling angrily hinted at the fact it was much later than he thought.  Stretching, he rose from his desk and wandered to the window.  Sometime since he’d returned home, the predicted snow had started to fall.  His entire yard was already covered, and more was coming every minute.

“Man, this is going to be a nasty one,” he muttered to the empty room.  He was immediately grateful to the city of White Pine for forcing him out to get groceries when he did.    

Travis switched on the radio before heading into the kitchen to feed his cranky stomach.  He’d gotten together everything he needed for a quick grilled cheese when a knock sounded at his door.  Again.  One unannounced visitor was strange, two was outright bizarre.    

“It’s like Grand Central Station here today,” he said.  Dropping the butter beside the cheese on the counter, he shrugged to himself and checked out the blinds again.  _Detective McDowell._ Things just went from bizarre to sexy. 

“Afternoon, Detective,” Travis greeted, kicking his natural charm up a notch.  He leaned against the doorframe and smiled at the enchanting officer.  “Are you making sure this poor bachelor got his groceries like a good boy?”

The corner of his mouth quirked up in a crooked smile.  “No, not exactly.  I – my car’s dead, the piece of crap, it seems to like the snow about as much as I do.  Also, my cell’s dead, although it’s not a piece of crap, it’s just overused.”

“And under charged, poor phone,” Travis joked.  “Come on in, you can use my land line.”

“Thanks,” he said.  Coming inside, he stamped the snow off his dress shoes before following his curly-haired host.  “I wouldn’t have bothered you but your neighbors seem to be comprised of nothing but elderly women.  And not a single one of them were all that trustful of me in the first place.” 

“Does that mean I’m the only eligible man left on the block?  Lucky me.”  There he went, teasing the detective again.  What was going on with him today?  And was that a hint of a blush on the handsome man’s face?

Ethan cleared his throat, stalling for time, or so it seemed.  “I’m not sure about that exactly, but I’m relatively certain you’re the only one that would let me in out of the snow long enough to make a phone call.”

“About that,” he reminded himself, handing the brunette his cordless phone.    “Have at it.  I can get you the number for the local tow truck, too.”

“Please?”  Ethan dialed the station while he waited and informed them he wasn’t going to make it back anytime soon.  When Travis returned with the tow company’s number, he dialed again. 

Travis watched the detective’s face morph from hopeful to worried, to despondent.  He hesitated only a moment after his houseguest hung up before pouncing.  “What’s with the long face?”

Ethan crinkled his nose in frustration.  “Said it’ll be morning before he can get here, and that’s only if the snow doesn’t bury the entire town in the meantime.  The cold’s apparently claimed more than one automotive victim this afternoon, according to Paco the tow truck driver, and he’s backed up.”

“He’s also the only one in town,” Travis added, unhelpfully.     

He deflated noticeably.  “I was afraid you were going to say that.  Is there anywhere I could hole up until this storm passes?  If I can’t get back to town…”

“Even if we could get you jumped or otherwise mobile, I’m not sure it’d be safe to drive.”  He took the phone from the cop and placed it on the charger.  “Best bet is to stick around.  There’s not anywhere I can send you that you’d manage on foot, not in this weather.”

Detective McDowell hesitated then sighed.  Travis figured he was coming to grips with the idea he was going to have to spend a bit of unexpected time with his new friend.  “I don’t think…”

“What?”  Travis clapped him on the shoulder playfully.  “That you don’t want to freeze to death in your car overnight?  Or are you worried that I’m a serial killer?  I can assure you, the only people I murder are on paper only.  Although, there are occasions…”

“I’m not sure I want to know what you mean by that,” Ethan laughed, giving Travis a playfully worried look.  “But seriously, this is all a bit unusual.”

Travis agreed.  “True.  But what choice do you have?  None, really, unless you want me to give you a lift home so we can shack up at your place overnight?  I do have four-wheel drive.”  He cocked a dark eyebrow in mocking question.  In all honesty, he’d shack up with this hot slice of heaven anywhere they happened to land.  

“Yeah, maybe not?”  A chuckle emerged from the stressed detective.  He ran long fingers through hair the color of autumn leaves, brown and red and gold and gorgeous.  “You sure you’re okay with this?”   

“Yeah, of course,” he assured him.  “I’ve seen you around town and you’re a cop, so I’m relatively certain I can trust you for one night.  And to qualify that earlier statement, I’m a writer.  Mysteries and crime thrillers mostly, thus the killing of imaginary people.  Anyway, enough about my strange habits, its cold out there, want something to warm your bones?”

Another crooked smile.  “Sure.  What do you have?”

“Depends.  You off duty?”  He was hopeful.  Not that he had any plans involving a drunken cop and a pair of handcuffs.  Nope, not him.  His alter ego, maybe, but him?  Never.  He was a good boy who didn’t play bondage games.  Usually.   

“Absolutely.”  Ethan focused those golden flecked green eyes on him, waiting. 

Travis’ muse did a double backflip inside a dark corner of his mind at the positive response.  Oh the trouble his fictional detective was going to get himself into in the next few chapters.  “Then I have coffee, Irish whiskey, orange juice and tequila.”

“Just the essentials, I see.”  Who knew the cop had a sense of humor.  “How about coffee for now?  Save the Jameson for when it really gets cold.”  He wrapped his arms around himself and gave a pretend shiver for effect. 

“Sure, coming right up,” he said, grinning.  He was beginning to really like this guy.  A thought nagged at him, however, dimming his cheerful mood.  “Need to make any more calls while you still can?  Gotta let the little woman know you’re safe or anything?”  It was a cheap shot, but he had to know one way or the other.  Better now than later, when he’d made a fool of himself, he reasoned.

“No,” he responded, sheepish.  Travis detected a touch of pink coloring his overly pale cheeks again.  “No one at home to put at ease, unless you count my hamster, but I doubt she can answer the phone.”

“Point, although rodents are sneaky creatures, you might be surprised.”  You had to love a man secure enough to own a hamster and not worry about what it said about him. 

“Agreed, little brat is descended directly from Houdini if her escapee habits are any indication.  She’ll probably be holed up in the walls by the time I get home.”  A fond smile crossed his face.  He loved the little rodent, too, it seemed. 

Travis chuckled, having had a hamster or two as a kid.  “Come keep me company while I make a fresh pot of coffee.  I was also planning on some food, you up for a grilled cheese?”

“Living the bachelor life, eh?” Ethan replied. 

“Nah,” Travis retorted, “more like living the life of a single, broke as hell writer.”  Before he could see the inevitable look of horror cross the detective’s face, he busied himself preparing two grilled cheese, and opening a bag of chips.  Idle hands led to idle thoughts, neither of which he needed with a cop in his house. 

“Nothing wrong with living simply,” Ethan agreed, taking a steaming cup of coffee from his host. 

 

Travis opened the back door for Ethan as he stumbled inside with an armload of firewood.  “Man, I told you I would help with that.” 

“No, no, it’s okay,” Ethan assured him, dumping the timber in the designated box by the back door.  “I am perfectly capable of hauling a little bit of wood through a hell of a lot of snow.” 

“Yeah, but now you are covered in wood shavings and sap,” Travis said, swiping a hand down the front of the detective’s dress shirt.  The shavings were sticking to the long sleeved button up, determined not to let go.  “You want to borrow a shirt,” he suggested.  “Maybe a pair of sweats?”

“No, I think I’m…” he looked down at himself and reconsidered.  “Yeah, okay, sure.  I’m going to need something to sleep in anyway.”

“Yeah, three piece tailored suits are not the most comfortable pajamas,” he kidded.  “I’ll be right back.”

Ethan watched him walk away, appraising his smooth gait and long legs.  For a writer, he made it a point to keep physically fit.  He noticed, when Travis returned, that he looked almost as good coming as he did leaving.  Broad chest, narrow waist, million watt smile, he was any boy’s dream. 

“Here ya go,” Travis said, breaking him out of his mental drooling.  “I think the pants will be a bit big, but there’s a drawstring so you should be okay.”

“Thank you for protecting my modesty.”  Ethan looked around the living room.  “Direct me to your restroom?”

“That way,” Travis pointed towards a hallway.  “Second door.  I set out a spare toothbrush for you and some clean towels, just in case.”

“Thanks, be right back.”  Ethan disappeared into the restroom and closed the door behind him. 

Leaning against the wall, he let out a long breath.  He had been looking forward to unwinding at home, turning on the TV and falling asleep in his chair.  But all of that was ruined now because his stupid car – the crappy, broken down thing that it was – had refused to start.  Again.  Now he was looking forward to a night of awkward silences and longing gazes with a man he hardly knew.  Lovely. 

Bolstering his confidence, Ethan washed his hands and undressed slowly.  Folding his clothes and placing them on the toilet tank, he had the horrible realization that his favorite dress shirt was history.  He wasn’t ever going to get the tree sap out of it now.  Frowning, he told himself to deal with it later and just get dressed. 

Pulling the sweatpants on, he discovered Travis was right.  Where his host was muscular and solid, he was thin and wiry.  Cinching the drawstring as tight as he could get it, he prayed he wouldn’t lose his pants before the night was over.  He tossed the shirt on over his head, inhaling Travis’ distinctive smell into his nostrils.  _He must’ve worn this and forgotten about it_.  Ethan was screwed, he was going to be horny all night now because every time he breathed, he smelled that delicious man on his skin.       

“Well,” he mumbled to the shower curtain, “it could be worse.  He could be a troll.”

 

“There you are,” Travis greeted him upon his arrival back in the living room.  “I got a couple pillows and a blanket for you.  They’re on the floor by the couch.” 

“Thanks again,” he said.  “And really, I appreciate you putting me up for the night like this.”

Travis waved a hand at him.  “Don’t even worry about it.  It’s always good to have a cop owe you, right?  I’m kidding, kind of.”

Ethan closed his eyes and moved his head from side to side.  “No you’re not, but I totally agree with you on this.”

“Glad to hear it.”  He handed the detective the mug he’d been using earlier.  “I also figured you could use a warmer upper.  Although, I have to warn you, not just coffee this time.”

“Ahh, so you broke out the whiskey after all?”  He took a tentative sip of the steaming concoction, testing its strength.  “Mmm, just right.  Although more than one cup of this will knock me out.”

“Note to self: only allow the good detective one cup of Irish coffee.”  Travis grinned at him and added, “Lightweight.” 

Ethan looked at him over the top of his coffee mug.  “Maybe I’m a lightweight.  But maybe I’m also half your size.”

“My little ninety-pound cousin could drink you under the table,” he bragged.

“Oh, really?  And is she from your Irish side?”  He sipped again, waiting and predicting the answer before it came. 

“Yeah, actually she is.  Guess that doesn’t count then, does it?” 

“Not really,” Ethan agreed, sitting on the arm of the couch, “but I won’t hold it against you this time.”

“So happy to hear it,” he jested, sipping from his own mug of courage. 

 

The snow continued to pile up outside and every time he looked out the window, the drifts had managed to grow taller and taller.  It had been the right thing to do in letting the cop stay the night.  He could work with awkward. 

They had been sitting in the living room, gossiping about the residents of White Pine when the power went out.  That had been almost an hour ago.  Since it was nearing ten o’clock, Ethan had opted to hit the hay.  Travis had let him, retreating to his office to get a little writing in while his laptop’s battery held out.  He hadn’t made much progress, thoughts of the evening spent in front of the fire distracting him at every turn. 

Ethan McDowell was an intriguing character.  He’d not been in White Pine for long, saying he’d been transferred out of the big city for one reason or another.  No matter how Travis had hinted or outright pressed, he refused to give up his reasons for leaving what had to have been a much better job than the one he was now working.  His innate curiosity got the better of him, so he opened a new word processing document and made a list of possible reasons.  

_Caught sleeping with the captain’s daughter._

_Running drugs for the mob.  Or guns._

_Blackmailing a city councilman._

_Burned down the fire station._

“Okay, Murph, now you’re just being silly,” he muttered, re-reading his list of ideas.  None of them seemed to fit with the detective’s personality, but they could more than apply to his fictional detective.  “Just gotta change ‘sleeping with the captain’s daughter’ to ‘sleeping with the captain’s son’.” 

He laughed at himself, knowing he was being ridiculous, but also knowing that mindless little games like this were what always boosted his creativity late in the game.  Travis always called it brainstorming, but it was more like going on a treasure hunt in his brain. 

“And now you know why you’re single, Murph.  You spend entirely too much time with people who don’t exist and not nearly enough with those that really do.”  He closed his list of possible scenarios and looked at the time.  Quarter after eleven.  While he normally didn’t even think about bed until somewhere in the neighborhood of two AM, he figured Ethan would be up bright and early – which meant he needed to be, too.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what do you think so far? I know we're a bit out of season for this, but we could all use a cooling off right now, I suppose. :)


	3. Chapter 3

It was that delicious smell that woke him from his slumber.  Cracking an eye, Ethan looked around the unfamiliar living room for a moment before remembering where he was – sleeping on Travis Murphy’s sofa. Bacon, eggs, and the alluring scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted to his nose, eventually enticing him off the couch and into the kitchen. 

Travis stood at the stove in nothing but a pair of grey pajama bottoms, frying bacon in a skillet.  Lean muscles worked in his back and arms as he prepared their morning meal.  “Oh, you’re up finally,” he said happily.  “Have a seat and I’ll dish you up some grub.”

“Thank god, I’m starving,” he responded, taking the nearest barstool for his own.  “Smells wonderful, too.”

“Mama made sure I could cook,” he stated, pulling two plates from the cupboard.  “She was afraid I’d starve otherwise.  And now you get to reap the benefits.”  Travis piled bacon, scrambled eggs, and buttered toast on a plate and handed it over to Ethan.

“Holy cow, do you think I have a hollow leg or something?  Where am I going to put all of this?”  As if to argue with him, his stomach growled loudly.

“Your stomach seems to disagree,” he quipped, bringing his plate around the counter and sitting beside his houseguest.  “But you skinny guys are sneaky.  You can pack away the food like nobody’s business and stay thin as a rail.  Me, on the other hand, I have to work hard at keeping all this looking this good.”  He patted himself on the gut and shoveled a forkful of food into his mouth. 

“You seem to be doing a good job of – shit, I didn’t mean to…”  He made a face, forcing his mouth to stop moving without permission.

“Say that out loud,” Travis teased.  Reaching over and squeezing his guest’s knee playfully, he continued, “It’s all good.  Probably the nicest thing anyone outside of my mother has said to me all year.”

Focusing on his plate, he continued to eat, refusing to make eye contact.  He was terrified his mortification would show on his face.  “You’re welcome and really, I’m sorry.  We hardly know each other.”

“True,” he agreed.  Nibbling on a triangle of toast, he let the silence stretch a minute.  “But, seeing as you’re appreciative of all that is me, I have a question for you.”

“Should I be afraid?”  He was still staring at his breakfast, unable to look at his host. 

“Maybe, considering the huge favor I’m about to ask.”  He popped a piece of bacon into his mouth and chewed slowly.  “Like you said, we hardly know each other, so feel free to tell me to go to hell.  But Christmas is in a couple days and…”

“Christmas Eve is tomorrow you goof,” Ethan replied, feeling a little bit more at ease now that Travis had changed the subject.  Sort of. 

“Point to the detective.  But seriously, my parents are wonderful people, and well, they worry about me.  A lot.  And often.”  He paused long enough to take a draw from his coffee mug.  “I had promised them last Christmas that I would stop spending so much time here, glued to my computer, and get out and find someone.”

Ethan looked up finally, not quite meeting Travis’ questioning gaze, but his chiseled chin was close enough for now.  “Let me guess, you didn’t quite make that promise happen, did you?”

He shook his head, loose dark curls falling around his face.  “Not even close.  I’m supposed to be meeting my parents for dinner on Christmas Day and they expect me to have a date.”

“And you don’t have one?”  Ethan swallowed his embarrassment and met Travis’ gaze, surprised by the depth of the emotion he saw there.  It was apparent that disappointing his parents didn’t set well with him. 

“Not even a prospect willing to lie and say they were my date.”  Fiddling with his fork, Travis looked out the kitchen window.  “Snow’s stopped finally.”

Ethan took it all in, cautiously considering his words before he responded.  The unspoken request, the striking man making it, his complete and total loneliness.  “And they won’t have an issue with you bringing another man home for the holidays?”

Travis turned his blue eyes back on the handsome detective.  “Naw, I came out to them when I was eighteen.  It wasn’t easy, but they love me for me and just don’t want me to spend the rest of my life alone.”

“Do you really think lying to them is the way to go about this?”  Lifting his fork to his mouth, he forced himself to eat a couple bites.  He really was starving, but this whole discussion had his stomach in a knot. 

“No,” he replied, allowing his fork to drop noisily to his plate.  “I hate lying to my parents.  _Hate_ it.  But I don’t see any alternative.  It’s been four years since I’ve brought anyone to Christmas dinner.”

Ethan wished his parents even cared enough to worry if he was alone or not.  “That’s a long time,” he commiserated.  “Nearly as long as it’s been since I’ve had a date on Christmas.”

Travis gave him a sad sort of smile.  “We’re a couple of bums, aren’t we?”

“Maybe.  In my case, I can blame it on the job.  Long hours and lots of stress don’t usually foster a very healthy relationship.”

“Good point.”  Travis stood and took his plate to the sink.  “Look, if I saw you in a bar, I’d bet you were straight and would cringe at the idea of dating a man, even for pretend but…”

“But you’d be wrong.”   He’d said it quietly, but with enough force behind his words to cause Travis to take notice.

“I would be?”  He gave the detective a long, lingering once over, possibly trying to see whatever indicator he might have missed the first time.  “I’d have never guessed it.”

“Unlike your parents, mine didn’t take my revelation all that well,” he admitted.  “They’ve not been supportive and actually even told me once that if I ‘insisted on dating men’ that I could just come by myself.”

“Please tell me you just stopped coming around,” he said, disgust at such hatred lacing his voice.  “You done with this?”

Ethan nodded and let him take the plate.  “Yeah, it got to be more uncomfortable coming to family events knowing I’d be the only one without someone.  So, I started using work as an excuse and they pretended to believe it.”

“You know, that really sucks.”  Travis took the seat beside Ethan again.  Reaching for his hand, Travis wrapped his fingers around Ethan’s, warm skin against warm skin.  “You’re way too nice a guy to be all alone.”

“And you are way too charming to be single,” he volleyed back. 

“You make a valid argument,” he laughed, giving his fingers a squeeze.  “So you’ll do this for me?”

“Yeah, absolutely.  What do I have to lose?”  He turned his hand over so that his and Travis’ were palm to palm.  Ethan allowed his fingers to curl around Travis’, getting the same in return. 

“Just your sanity,” Travis deadpanned.  “My father is Irish after all.”

Ethan couldn’t contain the long repressed laughter that bubbled up in his chest.  “I think I have you beat on that note. Mine’s Scottish, remember?”

“Eh, just makes yours more stubborn, not more insane.”  Travis leaned into Ethan’s side, resting his shoulder against his guest’s. 

“So, so true.”  He relaxed into Travis’ body, feeling comfortable for the first time in a long time.

“Dude,” Travis said suddenly.  “So, you mean you’re gay _and_ fine as hell and you let me put you on the _couch_ last night?  What the hell?”  He shook his head with pseudo disgrace. 

“What?  And let you share a bed with me?”  Ethan felt warmth creep into his belly at the idea of waking up with this hunk of a man beside him.  “Are you sure you could control yourself?”

“Hey, that’s my line!” 

“Right, because you’re the egotistical one, I forgot that part.”  Travis made it too easy, he’d realized, always leaving himself open for harassment.  To lessen the sting of the barb, he asked, “So, dinner.  When, where, what time, and do I need a tie?”

The smile that stole onto his face brightened the entire room.  “Christmas Day, like I said, around five.  But you can meet me here and we’ll drive over together, if that’s okay.  And yeah, no.  No tie.  Just something nice, nothing fancy.  Can’t have you showing me up with your suits, can we?”

“No, definitely not.”  He smiled back at the man that was quickly becoming something more than a kind stranger that let him crash on his couch for a night.  A friend maybe?  It was possible.  “Hey, I appreciate the loan of your couch and I appreciate breakfast even more, but I need to see if I can get home, change and get back to work.”

“So you’re going to eat and run, huh?”  Travis sniffed.  “Be that way then.”

Ethan grinned. “Okay, I will.”

“I guess that means I should call the tow truck so you can get while the getting’s good.”  Travis waved his cell phone in the air, emphasizing his point. 

 

“I made it home, Mother, are you happy?”  Ethan’s voice sounded like heaven coming through the phone line.

“Not as happy as if you were back here already.  I never realized how lonesome it is being alone all the time.”  Travis paced his living room, phone pressed to his ear.  “But yeah, I am.  I know I’m a pain, but these roads are a mess when it snows and I worry.”

“If you’re lonely, get a cat,” Ethan suggested, chuckling.  “I know I’d worry, too, so it’s appreciated.  Really have to go now though, or I’m going to be late.” 

“Okay, be safe,” Travis cautioned. 

“Always am, mom,” Ethan teased, hanging up. 

Travis smiled at his phone. He wasn’t sure if he was going to make it until Christmas Day or not.  Ethan had filled a void in his home that he hadn’t even noticed was vacant.  This whole ‘contact with the outside world’ thing was overrated if losing that contact made him feel so lost. 

“Back to the grind, Murph,” he mumbled to himself, wandering into his office.  “You have a novel to finish.” 

Booting up his computer, he sat in his rolling chair and sipped his coffee.  Waiting for the screen to fill with life, he thought about the night before.  The conversations, the laughter, even the semi-argument or two they’d shared.  He really hoped that dinner didn’t screw up his chances of maintaining some kind of relationship with the intriguing man.  There was something burning just below the surface with that one.  Something that screamed, ‘pay attention to me’. 

Feeling a sudden pang of loneliness, Travis abandoned his computer and made his way into the living room.  Spying the blanket Ethan had discarded in his rush to find breakfast, Travis’ mouth quirked up in the corners.  Snapping the flannel up off the floor, he wrapped it around his shoulders and ensconced himself at his desk, finally ready to get down to business.  A hint of Ethan’s presence surrounding and comforting him.

 

The onslaught of snow had rendered his job virtually pointless.  White Pine was a quiet town on its worst day, the residents content to work things out amongst themselves with little to no resistance.  Crime on a larger scale was unheard of, even minor offenses were few and far between.  Then you get a day like this, when it was bitterly cold and with the threat of even more snow looming, no one was out long enough to even consider causing trouble.  Which was a good thing, but it also made for a very, very boring day manning the station single-handed. 

For the eighteenth time that morning, Ethan found himself reaching for the phone to call Travis.  Why, he wasn’t sure.  He had nothing new to report and he certainly hadn’t changed his mind about dinner.  Still he had the urge to hear the writer’s gravelly voice. 

Christmas dinner was also weighing on his mind.  He couldn’t deny that he was worried.  Despite Travis’ reassurances, he was nervous about saying or doing the wrong thing and ruining everything for his new friend.  The affection he held for his family endeared Travis to him even more than his wit and entrancing blue eyes already had.  Bracing himself for what might turn out to be the most awkward night of his life, he silently promised Travis to do his best. 

The call that his car was ready came around noon.  Nothing more than a bad battery, he’d been told.  Feeling stupid for not having thought of that himself, he walked the quarter mile from the police station to Paco’s Towing and Auto Shop to pick up his wilting baby. 

“Really, I should have thought of that,” Ethan confessed, handing over his credit card.  Paco had been kind enough not to charge him for the tow, citing the number of tows he’d already done the previous day.  _Call it a police appreciation discount_ , he’d said.  Either way, Ethan wasn’t going to argue. 

Paco waved a hand wildly in front of his face.  “Don’t worry about it.  Not everyone is a car person and sometimes, even when you are, the little things get by you.  You always worry it’s something big.”

“True,” he agreed, taking his card back and stashing it in his wallet.  “Thanks again for rescuing me and not charging for the tow.”

“Rescuing you?  Murphy is an odd duck, but he’s not all that bad.”  Paco retrieved a set of keys from the particle board holder behind the counter and grinned.  “As for the tow, cops get paid crap, it’s the least I could do.  Merry Christmas.”

“It’s appreciated all the same.”  He turned to leave and stopped, looking back at the mechanic.  “You’re right though, he’s not bad at all.”

Climbing into his car, he started the engine, smiling as it roared to life.  He still had the rest of the boring afternoon ahead of him, but now he didn’t have to worry about walking home in the snow.  Some days, it was the little things that mattered the most.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't look now, but we have something almost resembling plot here.


	4. Chapter 4

Are you sure you want to do this?”  Travis had already asked him this approximately seven times since he’d initially said yes the day after they’d met.  He stood in the doorway, blocking his entrance, as if once he was inside there wasn’t any going back.  “I mean, you can say no at any time, it’s not like my parents aren’t used to seeing me show up alone.”

“First of all, I said I would do this,” Ethan reminded him, pushing past his host and coming inside the writer’s home.  Looking around at the few touches of Christmas décor they’d put up last night, he was surprised to see Travis had added a couple more items to the mix.  “Second, I meant what I said.  I like you Travis, I want to get to know you better.”

Travis laughed.  “But meeting the family?  We’ve not even had an official date yet.”

Ethan relished the sound of hopefulness the word ‘yet’ brought to his voice.  “We can count this as our first, how about that?”

The smile that graced Travis’ face in that moment warmed Ethan’s heart.  Maybe this was the right decision after all?  Heaven only knew he’d doubted every choice he’d made since he’d landed himself here, six months ago.  Hopefully this meant he could start trusting his instincts again.

“I think I’d like that a lot,” he admitted.    Holding his hand out to Ethan he said, “Does that mean you’re ready for Christmas dinner with the Murphy clan?’

Ethan reached out, taking the offered hand firmly.  “It does.”

 

Aracely Murphy met them at the door, excited smile stretching across her matronly face.  Travis couldn’t help but beam at his mother’s eagerness to meet her son’s new friend, even if the entire thing was a setup.  _Ah, well, my parents never need to know that, right?_ After all, he figured that even if the night bombed as badly as he was afraid it might, he had made a new friend.  As much as he wanted a hot boyfriend, having a really good _friend_ worked for now.    

“Mama,” Travis called out to the woman in the doorway, hugging her hard against his broad chest.  “I’ve missed you.”

“You wouldn’t miss me if you came around more often,” she scolded.  “But I am thankful you are here.”

Travis kissed her cheek and pulled from her embrace.  “Mama, this is my friend, Ethan McDowell.  Ethan, this is my mama, Aracely Murphy.”

“It’s a pleasure, Mrs. Murphy.”  Ethan reached out to take her hand when he found himself engulfed in a massive hug. 

“Please, it’s _Mama_ ,” she corrected him, “and nothing else.  Any friend of my Travis is automatically family.  Come inside you two, your father has been waiting on you, Travis.”

With a look of mock horror, Ethan followed Aracely into the house, Travis close behind.  “I warned you, now it’s too late.  You’re officially stuck until after dessert.”

Ethan grinned, green eyes sparkling.  “If this is as bad as it gets, your family has nothing on mine.  They’re the scary ones.”

“Oh, you just wait, you haven’t met my Irish father yet,” Travis reminded him ominously. 

Hadn’t they had this conversation once already?  “Yeah, well, I have a Scottish father, so I’m not scared.” 

“Maybe we should pit them against each other sometime,” Travis teased.  “Come on, my dad has been asking about you.”

Liam Murphy rose at the sound of his son entering the den.  “Travis!  It’s ‘bout damn time,” he exclaimed, hauling his son into a brusque hug, patting him roughly on the back before releasing him.  “And this handsome fella, is he your new man?”

“Now pop,” Travis began, warning his father, “we’ve talked about this.  Ethan and I have only just started dating, no planning weddings yet, okay?”  It was the cover story they’d agreed on, one that was not only true to an extent, but would also cover the fact there wasn’t any PDA going on between them.  As much as he hated lying to his parents, he hated disappointing them even more and this little lie worked out to be the lesser of two very wicked evils.  

“You might have just broken your mother’s heart,” Liam stated, giving his son a disapproving look before turning on Travis’ date for the evening.  “So, you’re a Scotsman?  Eh, I guess we can forgive you that much if you make my boy happy.” 

“I…” Ethan began, but having no idea where to take the conversation, he wisely stopped and changed direction.  “Thank you, sir.  I appreciate you allowing me to invade your family dinner.”

“Any friend of Travis’ is always welcome here.  Even if you’re Scots,” he poked him in the side playfully.  “And although my son refuses to let us get our hopes up, we’re still happy he didn’t come home alone.  It’s more than time for that boy to settle himself down.”  Liam punctuated the statement with a wink and a stern look.

“Pop!  Please,” Travis groaned, hiding his face in his hands.  “You’re going to scare him off if you keep this up.”

“Humph,” Liam Murphy grunted, sitting back in his recliner.  “If he’s that easily frightened, he doesn’t belong in this family.”

“I’m a cop, sir, I assure you I can handle myself – and this family.”  Ethan looked to Travis to make sure he hadn’t overstepped his bounds.  Seeing the approving smile on his face, he relaxed.

“I like this boy,” Liam said, matter-of-factly.  “You can bring him around more often.”

“That’s it,” Travis whispered in Ethan’s ear, “you’re stuck here for life.”

“There are worse places to be stuck,” he whispered back.  “Trapped in a studio apartment, alone on Christmas is pretty high on the list.”

 

“Dinner,” Aracely called from the vicinity of the dining room.  “And get in here before the food is stone cold!”

“Last one to the table starves,” Liam Murphy commented, leaving the boys behind him. 

“Your father is a bit of a nut,” Ethan observed, standing and stretching. 

“And he’s still sober, wait till he starts drinking.”  Travis left his place on the couch, standing alongside Ethan.  “I meant to say it earlier, but you look really nice tonight.  Thank you, for all of this.”

Ethan looked at his feet since it was easier than trying to read the expression in Travis’ eyes.  “Thank you.  I was afraid of going too formal, but I didn’t want to show up looking like a slob either.  Tried to meet in the middle somewhere.  I’d say you look good, too, but you’d look good in a gunny sack.”

Aracely cleared her throat from the doorway to the den.  “Boys?  Dinner’s on the table.  Although…”  She let her voice trail off as she looked upwards at the ceiling fan directly above them before returning to join her husband. 

“What was that about,” Ethan wondered out loud.

“I don’t even have to look,” Travis laughed, pointing upwards with a finger.  “But I bet my mother hung mistletoe right above our heads.”

Ethan lifted his head just enough to see that Travis was right.  “Why would she do that?”

“Because she knew this would be where we’d sit.  She’s sneaky that way,” he said, moving closer to his pretend boyfriend.   

“So?”  Ethan’s gaze flicked from Travis’ handsome face to the mistletoe dangling dangerously above his head. 

“So, are you asking for dessert before dinner, Detective Mitchell?  I thought you were more disciplined than that.”

“Oh for the love of Éire, kiss him already so your mother will let me eat!”  Liam Murphy’s gruff voice filled the room around them. 

Ethan laughed at the absurdity of it all.  Were Travis’ parents really hiding out waiting to see them lay one on each other?  Apparently, it was dinner _and_ a show at the Murphy household tonight.  “Well, you going to let your poor father starve or what?”

“You never let an Irishman starve,” Travis told him, hinting at something more than the delicious smelling Christmas dinner in the other room. 

 

Despite the awkwardness of knowing his parents were watching from the doorway, he angled closer to the detective he’d grown so comfortable with over the last couple days and pressed his lips against his.  Ethan’s skin was warm to the touch, slightly roughened from the cold winter winds blustering through the town.  The other man leaned into the chaste kiss, giving Travis the courage to cup his face with one hand.  For a single moment, he almost forgot they really weren’t a couple.  _Almost._   

“Okay, okay,” Liam Murphy spluttered loudly, “they like each other.  Can we please have dinner now?”

Travis choked out a startled, “Papa,” against Ethan’s mouth.  Drawing back slightly, he looked towards the doorway, frowning.  “And you both wonder why I’m still single.  This.  This would be a good starting point.”

Ethan hid his chuckle behind his hand, looking between Travis’ beaming parents and the man himself.  “And here I thought it was because you rarely left your house.”

“You – I didn’t ask you,” he teased.  Turning to his parents, he said, “Go ahead and start, we’ll be right there.”

Reluctant, his parents drew away from the den’s doorway and made their way back to the dining room.  They could hear the older couple muttering between themselves all the way back to the table.  The two men continued to stand close enough to kiss, but not touching, for several minutes until Travis broke the silence hanging between them.       

“Look, I’m sorry about that,” he began.  “This is the real reason I kept asking if you were sure.  I was afraid…”

Ethan raised a hand, stalling his apology.  “Don’t.  It was one kiss – a respectable one at that – and if it gets your parents off your back, it was worth it, right?”

“Right,” Travis agreed.  “But…”

“But nothing.  Anything else?  We can deal with it later.  Right now, dinner is on the horizon and your dad is about to faint from hunger.” 

“That’ll be the day,” he laughed, back at ease in Ethan’s presence.  He was right – as long as he knew that Ethan understood and didn’t hate him for it, everything else could wait until later.  When they were alone again.  “C’mon then, cookie, let’s go have some of my mama’s fabulous food.”

“You do not have to ask me twice,” Ethan said, slipping his arm through the crook of Travis’.  “I’m about to follow your father into starvation, I think.”

 

It was probably the oddest Christmas dinner he’d ever eaten, but it was also by far the most delicious.  Instead of the run of the mill turkey, mashed potatoes and cranberries, he was treated to posole and tamales, beans, rice, and fresh tortillas.  The Murphy matron also managed to work in some of her husband’s traditional favorites as well – Brussels sprouts tossed with chipotle peppers, roasted potatoes topped with queso fresco – but only after adding a touch of her Latina flair to them first.  He’d never been so stuffed in all his life. 

“Dessert,” Aracely offered around the table.  “Are you boys ready for something sweet?”

“Oh dear god, no Mama,” Travis moaned.  “Let us recuperate from dinner first, before you stuff us all over again.” He patted his flat stomach for emphasis. 

Aracely Murphy beamed happily, having done her job well by not just feeding her family but by making them miserable in the process.  “But you’ll let me know, right?”

“Of course, Mama,” Travis reassured her.  To Ethan, he said, “Trust me, you’ll want to stick around for dessert.  Tres Leches cake, trifle, buñuelos, enough sweet stuff to rot your teeth and so good you won’t even care.”

“I wish I hadn’t eaten so much,” Ethan opined.  “I hate that I have to wait now.”

“It’ll be just as tasty later, I promise.”  He bent his head so that his lips almost touched Ethan’s ear.  “Besides, didn’t you already get a bit of sugar tonight?”

Ethan coughed loudly, startled at Travis’ intimation.  “You are absolutely incorrigible sometimes,” he stated, getting lost in those bottomless blue eyes. 

 

Travis released his mother from another lingering hug, bussing her on the cheek one last time.  “I’ll see you on New Year’s Eve, I promise.”

“You’d better,” she shook a finger at him.  “And bring this one along with you, you hear me?  I like him.”

“Mama, he’s standing right there,” Travis pointed over his shoulder at ‘the one’ in question. 

“I know he is,” she responded.  “I want to make sure he knows he’s welcome back.”

“It’s appreciated, ma’am, uh _mama_ ,” Ethan said, smiling with true affection. 

“We’re leaving now,” Travis stated forcibly, taking Ethan by the arm and dragging him down the walkway to his truck.  “And I apologize for that last bit.  Mama’s a bit…”

“Exuberant?”   Ethan squeezed Travis’ arm in reassurance.  “I like her though.  Both of your parents, actually.  Even your curmudgeonly old father.”

“That’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever said about my father,” he joked.  “But I’m glad you had a good time and don’t hate me.”

“Hate you?”  Ethan opened the passenger door and climbed into the poor old truck.  “How could I hate you?  I think I like you even more after all that.”

“Truly?”  Travis’ mouth hung open in disbelief. 

“Truly,” he repeated.  “Your family is unique and original and a lot of fun.  Thank you for sharing them with me.”

“Thank you for enduring them,” he returned.  “What do you think about a nightcap once we return to my place?  Or do you have to work in the morning?”

“I do have to work in the morning,” he announced.  Seeing the crestfallen look on Travis’ face, he hastened to add, “But I’d love to share a drink before I have to head home.” 

“Great, it’s a date,” Travis said. 

“I thought this was a date already,” Ethan prodded, teasing just a touch.

“That was a trial run,” Travis joked.  “This will be the real thing.”

“You’re on.”

 

Travis pulled into his garage and shut off the engine.  Looking over at Ethan in the passenger seat, he attempted a weak smile.  He couldn’t believe how nervous he was all of a sudden.  An outsider would think they were complete strangers not guessing they had been trapped in his house together a couple nights ago.  Taking a deep breath, he plowed forward.  

“You sure you want to come in?”  He avoided meeting Ethan’s gaze directly, terrified of the rejection that might follow.

“Are you always this insecure?  How’d you ever manage to get a novel published anyway?”  Ethan reached across the bench seat and gripped Travis’ wrist, squeezing lightly. 

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me tonight,” he confessed.  “And no, I’m usually only really insecure over the things that mean a lot – my family’s opinion of things, my writing, you get the idea.”

“Nothing to be nervous about here,” he reminded him.  “Let’s go inside and have a drink, okay?”

“Sure, I’ve got the perfect thing for such a cold ass night, too.” 

In the kitchen, Travis removed two mismatched coffee mugs from the cupboard and placed them on the counter.  Catching Ethan’s curious gaze, he shrugged, sheepish smile firmly planted on his face.  “I have a whole set of matching mugs, go with my dishes and everything, but these are my favorites.  I figure we might as well go with them, right?”

“Right,” Ethan agreed, taking a seat on one of the breakfast counter’s stools. 

He took a plastic container out of the freezer and plopped it onto the counter beside the two well-used mugs.  From the pantry, he pulled a small jar of cinnamon and a bottle of brandy.  Using a spoon, he scooped a couple dollops of whatever was in the plastic container into the mugs.  After filling a kettle with water, he set it on the stove and lit the burner beneath it.    

“See, this one here,” he said, motioning towards a sky blue mug of epic proportions, “was sent to me by one of my fans.  My first fan gift ever.  You wouldn’t know this, but I have a soft spot for cartoons – and so did my first PI.  Thus, the Eeyore mug.”  He added an excessive amount of brandy to each cup, topping it with a touch of cinnamon.  “This one, however, came from my mother.”    

Travis turned the mug so Ethan could read what was written on it.  _Let it be_.  “Are you a Beatles fan, too?”

“Naw, but I tend to take things too seriously sometimes.  It was her reminder to me to let things _be_.”  The kettle whistled and he moved to remove it from the stove.  Filling the mugs near to the top with hot water, he set the kettle back on the stove, and stirred the contents of each cup.  Handing Ethan the Eeyore mug, he lifted his own in salute.  “Sláinte,” he toasted, taking a careful sip.

“May your beauty last long, but not as long as mine,” Ethan returned, carefully sipping from his own mug.  “Oh wow, this is…” he coughed once.  “Strong, but really good.  What is it?”

“Something my aunt – on my father’s side, of course – calls a Tom and Jerry.  Its eggs and powdered sugar and a hell of a lot of alcohol.”  He took another drink, loving the warmth it filled his belly with.  “Be glad I went easy on you – she puts rum _and_ brandy in hers.”

“Well, I could get used to a mug of this on a cold night,” Ethan agreed.  “Although I can see everything going downhill fast after one or two.”

Travis chuckled, knowing he was more right than he could possibly understand.  “Good news is, it’s so damn sweet, you’d get sick before you got drunk.”  Not entirely true, but close enough for government work. 

“Yeah,” he said, licking the frothy drink from his bottom lip, “I can see that happening.”

“Can you see anything else happening,” Travis asked, placing his mug onto the counter. 

“Like what, exactly?”  He rested both forearms against the edge of the counter, leaning in closer to Travis.  “You kissing me again?  But for real this time?”

“Yeah, exactly like that.”  He came around the counter, approaching Ethan on his stool.  

“Well, I think I can totally see that happening,” he enticed, turning so that he faced his host fully. 

“I’m glad to hear it, because it’s about to happen.”  His mind wandered to his father earlier that evening, encouraging the two of them to just get on with it.  A hint of a smile twisted his lips in memory, giving him the push he needed to make the first move. 

 

Their lips met for the second time that evening, but Ethan could tell the difference between this kiss and the one that had preceded it immediately.  Travis didn’t hesitate this time before cupping his face and pulling him in closer, threading one set of fingers through his dark hair.  He hadn’t meant to, but a delighted moan escaped his mouth all the same. 

“Like that, eh,” Travis mumbled against his mouth, nipping at Ethan’s plump lower lip. 

“God yes,” Ethan breathed, opening his lips in invitation.  “So please, don’t stop.”

Travis dipped his tongue into Ethan’s mouth, tasting, teasing, and tempting.  “I hadn’t planned on it,” he assured him, deepening the kiss more fully.  Ethan sighed against him, wrapping an arm around Travis’ waist, pulling him even closer than he was.  It was all the encouragement Travis needed.  “Don’t go.”

Breathless, Ethan pulled back from the kiss.  “Don’t go,” he repeated, questioning.

“Yeah,” Travis said, placing quick, light kisses on his cheeks, chin, eyebrows.  “Stay with me tonight.”

Ethan opened his mouth to protest, to find some excuse to say no.  Instead, he surprised even himself.  “I thought you’d never ask.” 


	5. Chapter 5

Travis took his face in his hands, pulling him in close for a lingering kiss.  Ethan’s mouth opened on instinct, allowing Travis’ questing tongue inside.  He slid the palms of his hands along the length of Travis’ arms, from wrists to shoulders, ending with his fingers interlocked behind his neck.  Tightening his arms around Travis, Ethan slowly closed the gap between their bodies. 

“You taste so damn good,” Travis murmured.  He punctuated each word with a playful kiss. 

“It’s all the alcohol you filled me with,” Ethan offered.  “But I can’t deny you taste awfully damn good, too.”

His hands left Ethan’s face, descending down his chest and winding their way around his waist.  Travis removed the last few inches separating their bodies, bringing them chest to chest and hip to hip.  “Much better, there was too much space between us.”

Ethan groaned his agreement, kissing Travis eagerly.  His fingers plucked at Travis’ shirt, tugging to release it from where he’d tucked it.  “Your belt’s too tight, I can’t get your shirt out.”

Chuckling, Travis put a few inches of space between them.  “Let’s take this back to my room first.  It’s too cold out here to get naked.”

“Lead the way,” he replied, anxious to be back in his arms. 

 

Travis’ room was much as he expected it.  Dark wood furniture lined two walls.  A king sized bed covered in a rust colored down comforter poked out from a third wall.  Two tasteful pieces of artwork adorned the walls, leaving everything else bare and stark in contrast.  Somehow it was perfectly Travis. 

He was back in Travis’ embrace moments later, feeling the heat of his skin through his clothes.  The need that he’d been denying all this time had reared its head and demanded to be noticed.  Even if they didn’t make it any farther than just this one night, he was ready to give Travis everything. 

“Mm, baby,” Travis crooned, “you are eager aren’t you?”  One hand slipped from Ethan’s waist and trailed down to cup his ass. 

Ethan arched his hips against Travis’, encouraging his bad behavior.  “You have no idea.”

“Sadly, I have a pretty damn good idea,” he sighed, rubbing his aching cock against Ethan’s thigh. 

“Ahh,” Ethan groaned, adoring the feel of a man against him again.  “So it seems you do know.”

“Yeah, and let me prove it to you,” he said, words gentle in Ethan’s ears. 

 

Despite the desperate urges building within them both, Travis forced himself to take it slow, to treat Ethan like he was a fragile doll liable to break at any moment.  He timed his touches so they would have the greatest effect and bring the most pleasure.  Taking cues from his lover, he played into Ethan’s every want and need, allowing his body to guide them both.

He was astounded that Ethan was so willing to let him take the lead.  Under normal circumstances, Travis always allowed his partner to be _that guy_ , the one that had to be in control, the one that always had to top.  It seemed to be what worked for him the best, letting someone else have the upper hand.  This was different somehow.  Ethan hadn’t let him be _that guy_ , they’d sort of fallen into these roles on their own.  It was different and fascinating and the biggest damn turn on he’d ever experienced. 

This could be the beginning of something very, very exciting for them both.  Travis promised himself that he wouldn’t screw it up like he always did. 

_Focus, Murphy_ , he scolded himself.  _Pay attention to the beautiful creature beneath your fingertips.  You can dwell on your past when he’s gone._

Based on the sounds coming from his lover, his focus had been appropriately redirected.  Travis grinned, he loved the sound of that word – lover.  This time, he had one worth keeping around.  Even knowing that his big mouth and loner tendencies always ran his boyfriends off, he refused to let it deter him.  Ethan had a tenacity and willingness to look beyond the surface, something that gave him hope.  

 

Stretching, Ethan felt the kinks in his body loosen.  The acrobatics of the night before had given him aches in places he hadn’t even realized he’d had muscles until now.  He rolled onto his side and looked at the sleeping form beside him.  Travis’ wild waves were stuck to his face in places and generally stuck out helter-skelter.  With a finger, he lifted a dark kink of hair from a caramel colored cheek.

Travis lashes fluttered, revealing two misty blue eyes.  “Hey you,” he said, voice thick with sleep.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty.”  Ethan leaned down and pressed a kiss to his lips.  “Have to admit, I’m offended that you’re not already up and making me breakfast.”

“Hah,” Travis barked.  He gave a long stretch and settled onto his back, looking up at Ethan beside him.  “That was just for when we were strangers. Now you get the real me, go fix your own breakfast.”

Ethan grinned and kissed him again.  “You’d better be kidding because I’m pretty much helpless in the kitchen.”

“That is not what we discovered around midnight,” Travis hinted, teasing at Ethan’s chest hair with his fingers.

“That’s not what I meant,” he said, flushing slightly. 

“I know it wasn’t, but it doesn’t make it any less true, does it?”  He pressed his lips against Ethan’s mouth, tugging at his lower lip with his teeth.  “Wanna make a deal?”

“Sure,” he agreed, tangling his tongue with Travis’.  “Lay it on me.”

“I’ll make you breakfast… later.”  He deepened the kiss, drawing a whimper out of Ethan.

“Later,” he asked around a mouthful of Travis’ tongue.

“Yeah,” he said suggestively, pushing Ethan onto his back.  “Much, much later.”

 

It was well past lunchtime by the time Travis made it into the kitchen.  Ethan had run for the shower, claiming it was the only way Travis was going to let him out of bed for any length of time.  Travis had argued the point, even knowing Ethan was right.  How could he blame him though?  No man in his right mind would have let Ethan get farther than arm’s length from him.

His mother had sent home enough leftovers to feed an army, which meant Travis might not have to cook for several days.  Digging around until he found his favorite part of Christmas dinner leftovers – a full pan of his mother’s famous tamales – he pulled them out of the refrigerator, followed by beans, rice and tortillas.  He was in the middle of reheating it all when Ethan emerged from his bedroom, hair still wet. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t find anything that fit better,” Travis apologized. 

“No biggie,” Ethan assured him. “I doubt you’ll let me stay in them for long anyway.  What smells so good?”

“Mama sent home a truckload of food.  Thought I’d reheat some tamales.  That okay?”  He suddenly wondered if he should have asked first. 

“Sounds delicious,” he admitted.  “I never really liked tamales until last night.  Your mother’s are amazing.”

Travis beamed, pride showing on his face.  “I’ll be sure to let her know.  She already likes you, but that will make her love you.”

“No higher compliment than telling someone’s mother they’re a good cook,” he agreed.  “In this case, it’s true.  Got any coffee?”   

“Fresh pot just finished.”  Travis retrieved a mug for him and filled it to the top. 

The timer on the oven sounded and Travis removed the tamales from within.  Placing a couple on each plate, he scooped heaping ladles of rice and black beans alongside them.  He carried the plates to the counter where Ethan had seated himself and returned for the tortilla warmer. 

“I almost broke out the tequila,” Travis said, sitting down with Ethan, “but I thought that it was still a bit too early.”

“Just a little,” Ethan agreed.  “Besides, you start plying me with tequila now, I might never go home.”

Travis looked at him for a second and then got up.

“Trav?  Where you going?”

“To get the tequila, duh.”  His laughter followed him into the kitchen.

“And to think, I figured you’d be hinting I needed to get lost by now.”  He pushed some rice around his plate. 

“You’re joking, right?  Travis looked around the corner at him, face serious. 

“Only partly.  You’re really not tired of me yet?” 

Travis’ heart clenched at the aching sound of hope in Ethan’s voice.  Some asshole had done just that – screwed him and kicked him to the curb – it seemed.  “Of course not.  I was going to wait until later for this, but I think I need to ask you now, just to prove my point.”

“Oh?  Ask me what?”  Ethan’s brilliant green eyes focused on his face, anticipation and fear clearly showing.

“Be my date for New Year’s Eve.  My parents have a little get together early in the evening, but I always ring in the new year alone.  Come to the party and then come back home with me.”

A surprised smile appeared on Ethan’s face.  “You want to bring me around your family again?” 

“Yeah, of course.  They liked you.  _I_ like you.  They might as well get used to you.  What do you say?”

“I think I say yes.” 

Travis sealed the deal with a kiss.

 

They spent the rest of the day curled up on the couch, old movies playing on the TV with the sound turned down.  Travis had finally admitted he had a deadline to meet or he’d insist Ethan stayed another night.  Ethan had taken the news well, saying he had to pull a night shift as it was.  Saying goodnight hadn’t been easy, but somehow they’d managed to do it and still keep their clothes on.  That, in itself, was a post-Christmas miracle. 

Travis watched him leave with mixed feelings.  Being apart was becoming more difficult every time they separated.  On the other hand, looking forward to their next encounter kept him moving forward.  He stood in the doorway until Ethan pulled out of the driveway and disappeared down the darkening road.  He stood there for a while longer, unable to let go of the moment. 

The chill of the winter wind began to work its way through his sweatshirt, chasing Travis back inside finally.  Rubbing his hands along his arms, he stepped inside, shutting the door behind him.  Even though Ethan’s presence lingered in the living room, the fact that he was alone began to press in on him again. 

“Pull it together, Murph,” he scolded himself.  “You should be used to this by now.  Matter of fact, didn’t you choose this life you jerk?”  He rolled his eyes at himself, realizing that while some things really are changing in his life, there were a few that never would.  Like the incessant conversations he held with himself while on deadline.  “Speaking of which, you lazy ass wannabe writer, you have one to meet.  Now, let’s go visit your fictional friends again, shall we?”

It was times like this when he wished he did have a cat.  Getting a resounding ‘meow’ right about now would have done him an awful lot of good. 

Grabbing a mug full of coffee, topped off with a splash of whiskey, Travis locked himself inside his office for the duration.  He had half a novel to finish in approximately eighteen hours.  It might have sounded impossible, but Travis had done more in less time before. 

“It’s crunch time, baby, we gotta focus.” 

 

He didn’t look up again until his phone startled him out of his creative fog.  Blinking, it took a second ring before he understood what he was hearing. 

“Hello?”  His voice croaked a bit, causing him to glance at the clock to check the time.  A bit past one AM.  He’d been writing for a little over seven hours. 

“I didn’t wake you, did I?”  Ethan’s voice warmed his insides, sliding in his ears and settling in his belly. 

“Naw, man, I haven’t even thought about bed yet.  Made a lot of headway so far though.”  Travis fiddled with his mouse, phone pressed to his ear. 

“Good, I was afraid you might be asleep.  Wanted to hear your voice one last time,” he admitted. 

“Here it is, baby,” he chuckled.  “Slow night?”

“The slowest,” Ethan groaned.  “I shouldn’t complain, really.  Back in the city, the late nights were always the worst.  People wrecking their cars, jacking other people’s wallets, murders and all the rest.  I don’t miss any of it, not really.”

“But the boredom sucks, eh?”  Travis grinned into the mouthpiece, wishing he could see Ethan’s face. 

“Yeah it does.  Damn near finished my book it’s been so quiet.”  He heard something over the line that sounded like feet landing on a desk. 

“I never would have pegged you for a reader either,” Travis confessed.  “Can’t deny it makes me happy.”

“I go in spurts,” he explained.  “When I was younger, I read voraciously.  But once I became a detective in the city, I had no time for anything but work and sleep.  Now, well, let’s just say I have more free time now.”

Travis laughed.  “I don’t doubt that.  Look up ‘sleepy little town’ in the dictionary and you’ll find a picture of White Pine I’m certain.”

“I’m coming to accept that there’s nothing wrong with that,” he agreed. 

“So, what are you reading?  I picture you with a military thriller or an old-fashioned fifties-era police procedural, am I right?”  Travis leaned back in his chair, propping his feet on his own desk. 

“You’re close,” Ethan hinted.  “It is a police procedural, but definitely more recent than the fifties.”

“Oh?”  He was intrigued. “Patterson?  I can see you relating to Alex Cross a bit.”

“Not quite,” Ethan said, mirth filling his voice.  “Try something more… local.”

Travis opened his mouth but no words came out.  Was it possible?  There were a few copies of his books in the local library but would he have thought to look there?  Wait.  Maybe he was reading more into this than he should.  There was another big name author that lived in the big city Ethan had just migrated from, maybe that’s who he was talking about.  Yeah, he’d start there.

“Ah, you’re reading Spiegel, aren’t you?”  There.  That didn’t sound too needy. 

Ethan barked a laugh.  “No, you nitwit, I’m not.  I’m reading _your_ last novel.”

Travis’ heart stopped.  Taking a deep breath, he asked the one word question he feared the most.  “And?”

“And?”  Ethan laughed again, his deep, rumbling amusement rolling through the phone line.  “And I think you’re amazing.  Why didn’t I know about your books before now?”

“Well,” he hedged, trying not to preen too much at the praise, “you said you were busy and…”

“And nothing.  Amazon is my friend.  I have the other four in this series on the way.  I hope that’s not weird for you.”

Travis’ stomach unclenched, muscles relaxing again.  “While it is a bit weird, it tickles me to no end that you like them.  Hey, and thanks, those royalties might just buy my groceries next week.”

“Minus the night or two I take you to dinner,” he suggested.  “Of course I like the books, Trav.  They’re a part of you and we both know how much I like you, right?

“Right,” he agreed.  “Now, you need to go finish your book so I can get back to finishing mine.  I’ll expect a full report in the morning, okay?”

“Okay.  I think I can do that.  Sleep well, Travis.”

“Sleep well, Ethan.”  Travis hung up and grinned at his computer monitor.  “He likes my books.  How the hell did that happen?”

 

It was nearing eight o’clock when Travis woke up, face stuck to the desktop.  He had no idea when he’d actually fallen asleep, making the ache in his neck seem that much worse.  Stretching, he looked at his laptop and scanned his progress. 

“Not too shabby for no sleep the night before and pulling a mostly all-nighter.”  He figured another hour or two of hard work and he’d be done.  After a shower and a bit of food, he could proofread what he’d written last night and ship it off to his editor.  On time even. 

Ethan must’ve been his lucky charm.  Or the push he needed to get his ass in gear and take this gig seriously again.  Either way, he owed it all to that lonely detective and a bit of encouragement from Mother Nature.


	6. Chapter 6

That incessant racket was making it increasingly difficult to sleep.  Ethan rolled onto his chest, burying his head under the covers.  The sound aggravating his ears stopped causing a groan of relief to slip out of the detective.  With a sigh, he settled back into the heat of his cocoon and closed his eyes.  The noise came again, shrill, loud and this time he reconciled it with the annoying ringtone he’d chosen for his cell phone.    

Fumbling out of the fog of sleep and web of blankets covering him, Ethan reached for his cell on the nightstand beside his bed.  “McDowell,” he mumbled incoherently into the mouthpiece. 

“Detective Ethan McDowell,” a voice asked. 

“I used to be,” he responded, waking up a bit.  He refrained from admitting that now he was just a glorified pencil pusher with a badge.  White Pine hardly needed cops, what use did they have for a detective?  Even if they had hired one. 

“Detective,” the voice continued on, as if he hadn’t even spoken, “I’m Captain Larry Michaels of the City of Minden Lake Police Department.  I’ve taken over your old division at the fifty-third precinct.”

This news caused Ethan to bolt upright in bed.  “What do you mean by ‘taken over’?  What happened to Captain Burke?” 

“I regret to inform you,” Captain Michaels reported in a voice that carried anything but regret, “that Captain Burke has been _removed_ from his position within the department.”

_Interesting_.  “Really, sir?  Did he finally retire?”  Ethan had rather hoped the old codger would be taken out by a sniper while picnicking in the park, but that didn’t matter much at the moment. 

A deep belly laugh filled the phone line.  “Retire?  Oh, no, not willingly,” the captain announced.  “He was forcibly removed from his position once it was determined that he had been in business with his son.”

So it had been the captain after all.  Ethan and his partner had made the connection between the murders and a drug dealer – a drug dealer that had turned out to be Captain Michaels’ oldest son, Douglas.  Extraneous evidence had pointed to an accomplice, but try as they might, they couldn’t pin it on anyone.  It had been evident to Ethan that Douglas Michaels’ accomplice had been his father, but his partner had refused to pursue that line of investigation to the point where he had reported Ethan to their captain.  His partner had lied and accused Ethan of planting evidence to make Douglas look guilty.  Only by the grace of God had he been able to avoid a jail term.  His willingness to leave Minden Lake was the only thing that had saved his hide.

“Question, Captain Burke.”  He really shouldn’t even ask this, some things were better left unknown, but the need for the truth nagged at him fiercely. 

“Shoot, McDowell.”  He could hear the other man tapping a pencil against something on the other end. 

“What about Detective Andrew Murray?  I never did find out what happened to him after I was forced to leave the department.”  Ethan could hear a bunch of shuffling going on and he waited patiently for it to finish.

“My perceptive Detective McDowell,” Burke cooed into the phone.  “I was beginning to think you weren’t going to ask about your old partner.”

“I almost didn’t,” he admitted.  “Sometimes, you’re better off not knowing.”

“That is the truth, son.  Are you sure you want to know now?”  The tapping had resumed. 

“Yes sir,” he acknowledged, sitting up and fully awake. 

“Your ex-partner’s fate is the reason for my call to you this morning.  It has come to light the he, as well, had been involved in the drug smuggling operation your ex-captain and his son had been operating under the department’s nose.”

And that would explain it all.  How could he have been so blind that he missed something so major?  “I don’t understand, sir.  Andrew Murray was smuggling drugs?”

“Not exactly, but he was… enabling contact between those that were buying and those that were selling.” 

“I see.”  He crossed his legs before him on the bed, one pant leg shoved up to mid-calf.  “So, pardon my bluntness but, what does this have to do with me?”

“Right to the point, I like that.  I’ve been told it’s what made you such a fine detective.  What this has to do with you is this.” 

Ethan braced himself for the news that the case was being reopened and he was going to be reinvestigated.  That his life was about to be turned even more upside down that it had been.  What would Travis think of him when this came out?  Would he even want to be seen around a man suspected of throwing a case?  One that had been investigated for being a dirty cop?  His stomach felt as if it were filled with lead. 

“The mayor has cleared you of any wrongdoing in this case, as should have been done months ago.  There wasn’t ever any evidence to support what your partner claimed.  Your partner’s involvement should have been further investigated at the time of the Michaels’ arrests, but it wasn’t.  No one even considered it until it came up during the trial.  I’m here to offer you your job back.”

Ethan blinked twice, not believing the words he’d heard.  “My job back,” he repeated, testing the words out as he said them.  He’d never dreamed of being a cop in a big city again, thought his chances of making detective a second time impossible.  “As a beat cop?”

“As a what?  No, of course not.  You’d be reinstated at your prior rank, plus back pay for the time you’ve been off.  Full benefits, too.”

He was more than stunned, he was floored beyond comprehension.  White Pine had been good to him, and he liked it here, but to go back to his old life in the city… until this moment, he hadn’t even known how badly he’d wanted it all back.  Had believed he’d put it all behind him. 

But what about Travis?  Going back would mean leaving him behind.  Could he do that? 

“McDowell, you still there?  What do you say, you want to leave the boondocks and come back to the real city?”  A hearty chuckle followed his declaration. 

Something squeezed at his heart briefly before letting go.  Travis would understand.  He had to understand, right?  The drive from the city to White Pine was a little over an hour, easy enough to make frequent weekend trips down and back.  That decided his fate right there.  “Yes, sir.  I am absolutely ready to come back.”

“I knew you would be, son.  I’ll see you tomorrow when you report for duty.”  The line went dead. 

_Shit._ Tomorrow?  Ethan sighed and looked around.  He hadn’t really settled in during his time in White Pine so packing wasn’t an issue.  But leaving his post at the station would be.  And telling Travis, too.  He’d hoped to give it some time, let it sink in first, before he had to leave.  Now, Travis was going to think he was doing a cut and run. 

_Snap out of it,_ he scolded himself.  _This is your chance to go back to doing what you love.  Dispensing justice and keeping the peace.  Things that aren’t needed here._

He could make Travis understand. 

 

Travis squinted through the peephole, grinning when he saw his favorite law enforcement officer standing on the other side.  Opening the door, he greeted him warmly.  “Ethan!  What are you doing here?  Did we have a date planned?”

“No,” Ethan said, moving past him into the house, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek as he passed by.  “Nope, got some news today and I wanted to stop by.”

“Whew.  Deadlines always make me a bit crazy and I was terrified I had forgotten.  C’mere, gimme a hug.”  Ethan complied with Travis’ demands, allowing the other man to wrap him warmly in his embrace.  “I know it’s only been a day but I’ve missed you.”       

“I’ve missed you, too, which is why I’m here.”  Ethan took a seat in what had quickly become known as ‘his chair’. 

“Right, your news.  Lay it on me, baby.”  He beamed, excited to share in whatever had his lover’s eyes dancing with delight. 

“I’ve been reinstated.”  He looked to Travis, expectation plain on his face. 

“Reinstated?  What do you mean?”  He had a sinking feeling in his gut that told him he already knew. 

As Ethan related the story of his early morning phone call, Travis’ hope dissipated.  Judging by the look of excitement on Ethan’s face, he was thrilled to be offered his job back.  Good lord and he was leaving in the morning.  He wasn’t even being given enough time to properly say goodbye.

“So, you’re leaving?”  Travis tried to keep the hurt out of his voice, but feared he wasn’t as successful as he’d hoped. 

“Yep, in the morning,” he chirped.  “I’ll be back over the weekend though.  I don’t have much, but there’s no way I can get it all packed and moved in one day.  Might take a few weeks, but I’ll get it all moved eventually.  Hey, when I’m here, we’ll have to have dinner and…”

Travis cut him off, surprising even himself.  “No.”

“No?  No, what?”  Ethan leaned forward and took Travis’ hand in his own. 

“No, we won’t have dinner,” he clarified, taking his hand out of Ethan’s.  “You said it yourself, your life up in Minden Lake was too busy to allow a social life.  You might come back for your stuff, but you won’t have time for me.”

“Not true, you I will make time for,” he corrected.

Travis stood, shaking his head.  “I think you need to go.  This is – it’s too much for me.  Goodbye Ethan.”

Ethan shot to his feet, stepping to within inches of Travis’ face.  “What are you doing?  I didn’t realize it, but this is what I’ve wanted for the last six months.  That thing that’s been missing from my life.  How can you not be happy for me?”

“How can you not be happy with the life you have now?  Last time you were here, you told me you’d never been happier.  So why leave?”

“You are the reason I’m happy,” he seethed.  “I will still be happy there as long as I know you’re here.”

Travis knew it wouldn’t work.  It never did, even when the distances were short and easily traveled.  Ethan wouldn’t ever come back to White Pine and when Travis could make the trip up, Ethan would always be too busy to spend any time with him.  Their relationship would slowly and painfully fall apart.  This, what they were doing right now, might hurt more, but it’d heal more quickly in the end. 

“It’s just not the same and you know it.  I can’t do distance, Ethan.  I don’t want you to go, but if you feel you have to, I’m not going to stop you.”  He fought the anger and frustration and hurt that were battling for control of him and lost to all three.  Tears threatened and he damn near gave in. 

“I can’t believe you feel this way.  You think you’ve finally gotten to know someone and they let you down,” he spat.  “Goodbye Travis, been nice knowing you.”

Travis gave a sad smile.  “Yeah, ditto pal.” 

Ethan stormed to the door, pausing long enough to glance back at Travis one last time.  The words were on the tip of his tongue and Travis knew that, if he could only get them out, spit them into the silence between them, everything would change.  The words alone wouldn’t give Ethan a reason to stay, but they would give him a reason to return.  But Travis couldn’t find the strength to say them, not out loud anyway.  What had already gone between them had hurt him too much, made him too afraid to make himself vulnerable again, so he kept his mouth shut and let the love of his life walk out into the night. 

He prayed that Ethan knew, that he could hear the words Travis’ heart was whispering to his own in the dark of night when no one else was awake.  Travis had to believe that what they’d shared had convinced the jaded detective that he was loved beyond the shadow of a doubt.  Even if Travis was too chicken to tell him as much.       

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah! Ethan, no, honey, please...


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost done...

New Year’s Eve had come and gone and every day Travis thought of Ethan and the way he’d left.  His parents had been heartbroken at the news, thinking that maybe Ethan had been the one for their son.  Travis eventually confided that he had thought so too, even though it had all started as a ruse.  Aracely Murphy had not been happy to hear that her son had conspired to fool her, but had cried along with him when he’d admitted his growing feelings for the jerk of a detective. 

These days, as February approached and thoughts of spring began to bloom, he hated himself more for allowing himself to fall more than he hated Ethan for leaving.  Try as he might, he couldn’t forget those green eyes that haunted his dreams.  On the bright side, the heartache had kicked his muse in the ass and he’d finished another entire novel in the days since Ethan had departed.  It was a record he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to repeat. 

 

Ethan dragged his weary body through the grocery store, knowing that if he didn’t do it now, it’d be at least another week before he had a chance.  As if in response, his stomach growled, reminding him he didn’t have that option.  It was shop or starve and honestly, he liked eating.  So, he shopped. 

Passing by the magazine rack, a splash of color caught his eye.  He backtracked and stopped, eyes landing on the smallish paperback display residing beside the massive amounts of magazines.  The white cover was innocent enough, but the name emblazoned in royal blue across the top had been what caught his attention. 

_Travis Murphy._

He reached out for the book, quickly drawing his hand back as if it had been too hot to touch.  Swallowing the lump growing in his throat, Ethan plucked the book off the shelf and held it in his hand.  He ran his thumb across the raised lettering of Travis’ name, a vision of the boy’s brilliant smile forming in his memory.  That annoying lump that had taken up residence in his throat dislodged and landed solidly in his stomach.  Ethan sighed, the emptiness in his chest aching to be filled.  The book was an inch from being returned to its spot when he changed his mind, tossing it into the basket with his Ramen and assorted other bachelor food. 

He might have left Travis, but he’d be damned if Travis had left him.

 

It took approximately a day and a half for him to finish the paperback.  After he’d thrown it against the wall in frustration – Travis was now fixed firmly in his brain it seemed – he’d retrieved it from the floor, smoothed the cover, and left it sitting on his dresser.  Like an idiot, he’d put it in a place he’d see often and, like the masochist he was, he refused to move it.  Mostly he thought he deserved a reminder of what he’d stupidly left behind.  Other times, he felt he deserved the pain that came hard on the heels of such a reminder. 

He wondered what Travis was doing at that moment.  Had he made his deadline?  He’d never bothered to even ask because he’d been so caught up in his own exciting news.  Ethan smacked a fist against the dresser, inches from the book that had started it all.  Why hadn’t he taken five minutes to actually talk to Travis before assuming he knew what the other would want?

Ethan slipped a hand into his pocket.  His fingers were wrapped around the length of hard plastic encasing it before he realized it.  “Damnit,” he muttered, disgusted with himself.  It wasn’t the first time he’d thought to reach out to Travis, it was closer to the ninetieth.  No matter how many times he tried, he hadn’t yet been able to make that call. 

He needed to.

He needed nothing more than to tell Travis he was sorry because he’d been _wrong_.  He wasn’t happy here, he was more lonely than he’d been before.  Or maybe he hadn’t noticed before because he hadn’t met Travis yet.  Hadn’t known what it was like to have something other than work to look forward to. 

To have someone care. 

“Good lord, McDowell, get a grip,” he scolded himself.  “You’d be lucky if he even took your call, you damn fool.”

 

“Excuse me, sir,” Ethan interrupted, hoping to hell he’d misheard what the captain had just said.  “Where did you say this witness lived again?”

“White Pine, McDowell.   It’s a stop sign on the blacktop about an hour south of here.  But you already know that.”  The captain looked at the case file again before handing it over to Ethan and Corey Mason – his new partner.  “If you get started now, you should be able to get there, interview him, and get back before dark.”

Turning back to his work, the boys found themselves dismissed.  Ethan’s head was spinning.  When the captain had mentioned the witness by name – Jorge Alvarez – he had thought it sounded familiar.  Now he knew why.  Jorge, or George as everyone in town had called him, was the bartender at the bar and grille on Main Street.  Ethan thought he might be sick.

“This White Pine,” he heard Mason saying, “is a dump.  Nowhere town with nothing to see and nothing to do.  What a crappy assignment to pull.”

Ethan glared at his partner, watching him climb into the passenger seat of his car.  Damn thing was still unreliable as hell, but ran much better since Paco had worked his magic on it all that time ago.  “Have you ever been there, Mason?  It’s not that bad.”

“I have been,” he groused, waiting on McDowell to start the car so they could get on with it.  “And it really is that bad.  Trust me.”

Ethan gave him a half smile, not wanting to feed the rage he could feel building in the other man.  White Pine was a hole in the wall as far as towns go, but it wasn’t awful by any means.  It was the cleanest town he’d ever been in, that was certain.  The people were friendly and helpful and the surrounding area was gorgeous.  Good fishing and better hunting if that was your thing.

He started the car, pulled out of the station’s parking lot, and got on the freeway.  His thoughts – and his heart – approximately eighty-seven miles due south. 

 

Travis stood inside the post office, chatting with the postmaster, when he saw a familiar car drive down Main Street and pull in at the police station across the street.  He rubbed his eyes thinking his heartache was playing with his mind.  But no, it was still there.  The late-model silver sedan was still sitting in the lot.  His heart leaped just as his stomach plummeted.  Conflicted didn’t even begin to cover what he was feeling at the moment. 

“Hey Joe,” Travis said, turning back to face his longtime friend, “I’ll catch ya later, okay?  Gotta run.”

“Of course, Travis, not like you won’t be back tomorrow, right?”  Joe gave him a friendly wink before wandering off behind the postal counter again. 

He stood by the front window for a moment longer, gathering his nerve, waiting to make sure this was the same piece of crap car with the unreliable battery that he thought it was.  When that head of distinctive reddish-brown hair popped out of the driver’s side door, he knew what he had to do. 

 

Ethan looked up at the sound of his name being called from across the street.  He’d been reading a text message from their tech gal back at the station when he’d heard it.  “Yo, McDowell, ya got your ears on, city boy?”

Mason’s gaze fixed on Ethan, appraising him before moving on to the source of the commotion.  “Care to explain how this hick knows you?”

He looked from what he’d dreaded the most – Travis – to his partner and back again.  “I lived here for a little over six months.  I needed out of the city and this seemed the best option at the time.  Besides, they gave me a job and didn’t give a damn about what I’d been accused of up there.”

Corey snorted.  “That’s because the most action they see here is someone shorting a waitress her tip at the local diner.  No real excitement ever happens in places like this.”

McDowell observed the tall drink of water hoofing it across the street and thought about how wrong Mason was.  Something exciting had happened here.  It wasn’t only exciting but passionate and life changing, too.  And Ethan had fucked it all up, royally.  “Mason, you might be surprised what kind of excitement places like this might hold.  You just have to look a little harder is all.”  He stepped away from his car and approached Travis, meeting him at the sidewalk.

“Well, I’ll be,” Travis exclaimed in a very affected southern drawl.  “As I live and breathe, it’s Ethan McDowell.”

“You’d better believe it, Scarlet.”  He didn’t understand why they had fallen back into that easy banter they’d always shared so readily, but there it was, just like it had been on the day they’d met.  “It’s been awhile.”

Travis wasn’t quick enough to conceal the hurt on his face and Ethan caught a glimpse of it before he locked it away behind a mask of indifference.  “You could say that.  What brings you back to our little dinky town?”

He sighed, allowing his shoulders to slump a bit.  “I can’t really say why, but we’re here to talk to Jorge.”

“George,” Travis said, his voice holding more accusation than Ethan liked to hear.  “You can’t possibly think he’s done anything wrong.  He’s like a million years old.”

Travis’ penchant for exaggeration tickled Ethan’s long dormant funny bone.  He chuckled and corrected his one-time lover.  “Not quite _that_ old, Murph, but no, he’s not a suspect.  At least, not yet, although I don’t really expect him to be either.”

“However, he might be a witness,” Mason said, butting into the conversation like he belonged there, between them. 

Travis looked the interloper up and down noticeably.  “And who is this handsome thing, Ethan?  Hmmm?”

A smile quirked up the corner of Ethan’s mouth, even as jealousy raged within him.  “This is my new partner, Corey Mason.  Mason, this is my friend, Travis Murphy.”  He could see Travis flinch at the use of the word ‘friend’ but he wasn’t sure what word he should have used.  Ex-lover?  That seemed even more harsh and judgmental than ‘friend’ ever could be. 

“It’s a pleasure, Detective Mason,” Travis was saying, shaking the man’s hand. 

“Pleasure’s mine, Mr. Murphy,” Mason replied.  “What do you do around here?  Anything that might help us shed some light on this situation?”

Travis shrugged.  “I’m a shut-in, mostly.”

Ethan snorted at that.  “He’s a writer and he likes his solitude is what he means.  However, he’s also like the town crier when he feels the need.  If there’s gossip to be had, Travis is your man.”

“Hey,” Travis protested, “I resemble that remark.  But how did you know?  I tried to keep my gossiping tendency to myself.” 

The grin on Travis’ face could light the entire town, he thought.  “Your mom ratted you out.  She warned me to never tell you anything I didn’t want the entire town knowing.”

“Ahhh, I knew I shouldn’t have left you two alone at Christmas dinner.  Lesson learned.”  Travis smiled at Mason and nodded at Ethan, taking a deep breath.  “Gotta jet, hot story in progress at home.  Just stopped by to pick up the fruits of my labor.”  He held up an envelope and grinned, turning to walk back to his truck.

“Royalty check,” Ethan guessed, smiling back.  “Nice work, Travis.  Oh, and by the way, I stumbled across something of yours in the grocery store last week.” 

He stopped walking, looking back at the two detectives.  “Oh?  And what would that be?”

“A Murder Most Convenient,” Ethan replied, eager to see his reaction to this news.

Travis visibly cringed.  “Good lord, please tell me you didn’t read that drivel!”

“I did and I liked it.  So much, in fact, it took me half a weekend to finish it.”  He was proud of this fact, even if Travis was making another face.  “What?”

“That was like my first published novel.  It’s wretched.”  He scrunched up his nose as if he smelled something nasty. 

“Hold on,” Mason interrupted again.  “You’re _that_ Travis Murphy?  I’ve read all of our Alex Jordan novels.”

A blissful smile crossed Travis’ face.  He reached to shake hands with the detective, shooting a look over his shoulder at Ethan as he did so.  “That would be me, Detective.  Always thrilled to meet another fan.”

“Okay, okay,” Ethan barged in, breaking up their little tête-à-tête before it could get started.  “I hate to interrupt your mutual admiration society here, but Mason and I have a job to do.  And didn’t you say you had a novel to finish?”

Travis gave Corey a wink, slowly allowing the detective’s hand to slip from his.  “Yeah, sure do.  Gotta keep those bestsellers coming, right?” 

That last part had been directed at Mason and it infuriated Ethan in a way he couldn’t explain.  He had no right and yet, being ignored by Travis made him want to hurt someone.  “Right.  Back to your laptop, your coffee, and your thesaurus.  Mush.”

The writer gave the two detectives a toothy grin and a wave before disappearing into his dilapidated old truck.  Ethan watched silently as he drove off, picturing him arriving home alone, and getting back to work, his favorite mug near to hand for the next caffeine emergency.   

“Aren’t we the jealous one,” Mason teased, drawing Ethan’s attention back to the present.     

“What?”  Ethan managed a look of feigned surprise at the accusation.  “Not me.  Come, I know where the witness is this time of day, follow me.”

He knew one other thing, too: he knew he needed to get the hell out of Dodge before it was too late. 

 

Interviewing Jorge had been a bust.  The poor old fellow hadn’t any recollection of the night in question, although they both discovered he made one hell of a mean margarita.  By the time they’d left the bar that afternoon, snow had begun to fall again. 

“I hate to break it to you pal,” Mason began, looking at the drifts piling up around them, “but I don’t think your poor car will make the trip back to Minden Lake.”

Ethan looked around him, assessing the situation.  Realizing that Mason was right, he sighed heavily.  “Yeah, if it’s coming down like this here, it’ll only get worse outside of town.”

“And then we’d really be screwed,” Corey added, unnecessarily.  “Any place to stay in this place?”

“There’s an inn down at the end of Main Street.  Should have plenty of vacancies,” he recited from memory.  “Nice place, clean, good food.”

“Let’s head that way while we can,” he suggested.  Ethan agreed.

 

He looked at the bottle of tequila he’d found in his trunk, figuring he’d missed bringing it inside the last time he’d bought groceries.  It was currently sitting at half-empty, kind of like his stomach.  The fact that he hadn’t handled seeing Travis half as well as he thought he had was rapidly becoming apparent.  Ethan looked at his phone and thought about calling, then reconsidered.  Tapping out a quick – and hopefully coherent – text, he relaxed back into the one chair provided by the inn’s owner. 

 

 

Travis’ focus left his computer screen.  Normally he would ignore his phone at a time like this, but that hadn’t been the ordinary chime he’d set to announce any incoming text messages.  No, it had been the sound of sleigh bells – the alert he’d picked to celebrate his dinner date with Ethan on Christmas.  Reluctant, but unable to resist a possible reconciliation, he grabbed his phone and anxiously read the text. 

_I miss you_ , it said. 

He smiled, thinking something more was at play here.

_And you’re drunk, too.  Aren’t you, Detective?_

The response came back quicker than he’d anticipated.

_Why would you say that?_

_Because you haven’t reached out to me in all the time you’ve been away.  Seeing me pushed you over the edge_ , he returned, only half kidding.

It took longer for the response to come this time, but it did finally arrive. 

_Okay, so maybe you’re right.  I was just going to come knock on your door, but now I’m thinking that’s not such a good idea._

_No, it’s not_ , Travis texted back.  _Stay put, I’ll come to you._

_You’d do that for me?_   Ethan replied.  _Even after everything I’ve done?_

He stared at the phone for a long moment, carefully thinking how he should respond.  Throwing caution to the wind, he decided to just be honest. 

_Of course,_ he texted back.  _I love you, you fool._

Travis didn’t wait for a response.  He simply grabbed his coat and headed into town, the snow be damned. 


	8. Chapter 8

It took longer than he had expected, even in the snow, to arrive at his destination.  Travis hadn’t needed to ask where they were staying, there was only one logical possibility.  The Blackmore Inn on Main was the only option.  Leaving his truck in the first open spot he could find, Travis entered the lobby and waved down the girl at the counter.

“Hey Maggie,” he said, flashing that smile of his.  “I hear you’ve got two customers tonight.”

“Sure do, Travis.  You looking for one of them?”  She smiled back at him, eager to have someone other than herself to talk to tonight.

“Yeah, I am.  McDowell,” he said.  “Ethan.  Which room is his?”

With a wink, she simply said, “Five.”

“Thanks Mags,” he called over his shoulder, disappearing down the hall. 

“Anytime, Murph,” she shouted after his retreating form.

Travis knew the inn like the back of his hand after having worked summers here as a kid.  It took approximately four and a half minutes to find Ethan’s room and knock.  The moment the door cracked open, he thrust his palm against it, pushing his way inside.

“Come on in, Travis,” Ethan giggled, more drunk than he’d ever thought to see. 

“Don’t mind if I do,” he growled, pulling him into a long kiss. 

“Travis,” he breathed.  “I’m so fucking sorry.  I – I should have done so much, said so much but…”

He stopped the flood of words with another kiss.  Taking his time to explore every inch of the detective’s mouth, he didn’t pull away until he was certain Ethan would stay quiet.  “You taste like tequila,” he observed.

Ethan chuckled.  “Yeah, I’ve had a few… sips… so far.”

The grin on his face said otherwise.  “You sure you want me here,” Travis asked, unsure of what should happen next. 

“Yes,” Ethan assured him.  “We were drunk off our asses the first night we spent together and that worked out okay, right?”  He got quiet for a minute before his smile disappeared.  “Well, it worked until I decided to be a prick and leave.”

Startled by this admission, Travis stammered, trying to find the right words to put him at ease.  Not finding any, he decided pulling Ethan into the circle of his arms and holding him tightly would have to do.  Ethan sighed, relaxing against Travis’ broad chest.  Slowly, his arms lifted and made their way around the writer’s waist. 

“I’ll never forgive myself for leaving,” Ethan whispered.

“I’ll never forgive myself for not stopping you, either,” Travis whispered back.  “I came so close that night… but I just couldn’t.”

“Maybe it’s better that you didn’t,” he confessed.  “Because if you had, we wouldn’t have right now.”

Acknowledging Ethan’s point, Travis dipped in for another kiss, allowing his lips to linger on the other man’s.  Ethan opened his mouth to him, silently begging for another taste.  Travis happily obliged, slipping his tongue into the wet heat of Ethan’s mouth.  The detective moaned in encouragement, arms tightening around Travis’ waist. 

Breaking the kiss, Ethan looked into Travis’ stormy blue eyes.  “I was an idiot.  I got scared, so instead of talking to you first, I bailed.”

“Shhh,” he soothed, caressing his face with a hand.  “You’re here now, with me, remember? And that counts for everything.” 

 

Morning arrived loudly, with a banging at the door that wouldn’t stop.  At first, Ethan assumed the banging had to have been inside his own head as loud as it was.  But when he heard Travis’ disgruntled mutterings from the pillow beside him, he decided to answer the door.

Naked.

With one eye squeezed closed, he poked his head out through the opening.  “What the hell, Mason?  What’s with the banging?”

“It’s almost nine AM, McDowell, we should be on the road by now.”  He attempted to push his way inside the room, but Ethan held the door firm. 

“About that,” he began, unsure of where the idea had come from.  “I’ve been thinking, Mason.  I’m not going back.  You can get a taxi and send me the bill.  I’ll call the captain myself.”

He began to close the door when Corey jammed his foot between it and the jamb, stopping its progress.  “The hell you’re staying, McDowell.  We’ve got a case to solve and…”

“And,” Ethan spat, exhaustion and worry finally taking over, “I’ve come to discover that I just don’t care any longer.”

Jabbing his bare heel onto the toes of Mason’s dress shoe, he watched the foot disappear from the crack, giving him the opportunity to close it on his now ex-partner.

“Your captain up in the city isn’t going to appreciate that,” Travis professed from the bed, covers having fallen to mid-chest.

“Nope,” he agreed, flopping onto the bed beside Travis.  “He won’t.  Actually, he’ll be pissed.  Your lovely sheriff gave me a job once, not caring what my past said about me.  I can only hope that he’ll take pity on me one last time.”

“I guess there’s only one way to find out,” Travis hinted. 

“Oh, and what way is that?”  Ethan cocked an eyebrow, waiting. 

“By asking, duh.”  He laughed at the incredulous look on Ethan’s face.  “What did you think I was going to say?”

Ethan shook his head, undeniably falling for the goofy, handsome man-child in the bed beside him.  “I really didn’t have a clue.  You always surprise me, so I learned never to assume.  I guess this means we need to go ask him then?”

“Yes,” Travis agreed.  “But later.  Much, much later.”

“Good call,” he said, moving closer for a kiss. 

 

When Travis had first suggested it, Ethan had thought it a bad idea.  Their relationship had crashed and burned once already, what would he do if that happened again?  Not having a home of his own to retreat to made him nervous.  Travis said that this way, with each of them forced to stay, they had no other choice than to make the bad things work.  He had a point, but still, he’d been wary of moving in with the enigmatic writer. 

That had been six months ago.  Now, with Travis’ birthday approaching, Aracely Murphy was visiting the station on a regular basis, making secret plans with Ethan for her son’s big day.  “And then,” she said, accent thick as flan, “in a few months, I’ll sneak around with Travis to plan my _other_ son’s birthday.”  Here, she pinched his cheek, letting him know she meant him. 

The Murphys hadn’t been too keen on trusting Ethan again after the mess he’d left Travis in previously.  It had taken a massive amount of making up on his part to get them – all three of them – to trust him again.  But it had been worth it.  Aracely and Liam had taken him in and declared him one of them for the long haul.  He’d never been happier. 

When the fallout from his abrupt refusal to return to Minden Lake arrived, he took it in stride.  If he hadn’t had Travis by his side, he wouldn’t have made it through the red tape and tremendous amount of bullshit he’d had to wade through.  For once, he’d been thankful for the way news traveled in a small town.  Every day, someone stopped by to thank him for telling the big city to stuff it and sticking with the community of White Pine.  He was wanted here, and that meant the world to him.  That support alone would have carried him through the rough spots, but Travis’ continuing love lifted him above and beyond.    

He’d settled in finally and had made a home for himself here in White Pine.  A place he’d initially thought of as a stop along the way to something better had somehow become his something better.  And he’d almost missed it. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it goes. :) 
> 
> I hoped you liked this introduction to my newest favorite couple. Thank you for giving this original work a read as well. :0)
> 
> There is more with these two and I will post if there seems to be any interest. Until that time... be happy.


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